


whipped vanilla topping

by misura



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gay Chicken, M/M, The Drift (Pacific Rim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Jake thinkscold vanilla ice cream and the crunch-crunch of toppings in your mouthand Nate drifts along while mentally rolling his eyes. (or: Jake and Nate play gay chicken in the Drift)





	whipped vanilla topping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).

Drifting with Jake has always been like going from seeing the world in black and white to seeing it in full-colour. Nate used to think that was normal, that drifting would be like that with anyone, but then he drifted with Burke and he realized that he was wrong.

He told himself he liked it better the other way, the less intense way. The practical way. He doesn't need another person in his head to be a good pilot.

He doesn't need _Jake_ as his drifting partner to be a good pilot.

(He does, maybe, need to stop pretending that this is in any way the truth, or rather: that he'll settle for being good with someone else when he knows that he and Jake together could be great.)

Jake thinks - _cold vanilla ice cream and the crunch-crunch of toppings in your mouth_ and Nate drifts along while mentally rolling his eyes. When it was Burke, they'd go over the mission briefing a few more times, and then maybe drift to past missions, figuring out what they could have done better.

Nate slips in _beer_, and Jake rolls with it for a bit - _how many bottles of beer on the wall?_ and a sudden, sharp image of _Nate holding a bottle of beer in one hand, head tipped back, sun-kissed, top-button of his shirt undone, smiling_ which leaves Nate a bit stumped, because he can tell it's a real memory, but not when it happened, or why Jake would remember it.

He offers up _Jake in a Hawaiian shirt, drunk, holding a can of whipped cream_ which seems in the proper spirit, at least, except that Jake comes back with _the taste of Jules's skin as you lick whipped cream off of it_ and Nate just feels the neural handshake weakening, because what the hell.

He's not sure if the fact that he can tell it's only a fantasy makes it better or worse.

"Sorry, sorry, my bad. Shouldn't have rubbed that in your face," Jake says.

"Rubbed what in my face?" Nate thinks Jules could do better than Jake. Unlike Jake, though, he's got enough self-control not to put that in the drift.

"Well, clearly she likes me better than she likes you. I mean, you've been after her for what - a year? Two years? Haven't really gotten anywhere, have you?"

"I haven't been 'after' anyone," Nate says. "For your information."

"Yeah, all right." Jake nods. "Smart. Playing it cool. Letting her make the first move and all, except that she hasn't, has she?"

"Can we talk about this another time?"

"Now, look, I don't want you to take this the wrong way," Jake says. "Plenty of women out there who love what you've got. I mean, you're handsome, you're sexy and you're good-looking."

Their neural handshake starts getting stronger again, and Jake thinks - _Nate, under the shower, wet, nice ass_ and Nate remembers how bad it got, those last few days before Jake got even stupider than usual and blew it all. He doesn't put _that_ in the drift, either.

"Thanks," he says, thinking _Jake's shoulder bumping against his own, the smell of soap_ and he feels Jake relax into the non-specific memory.

"Welcome," Jake says. "I'm just saying, as long as you don't open that pretty mouth of yours, you've got some game, man. And maybe even after. Only don't let them find out about your personality, yeah? Your personality sucks."

Some half-formed image slips into the drift of _Nate, on his knees_ and _'open up for me, nice and sweet, yeah, that's it, God, Nate'_ and Nate looks around for the numbers, expecting them to be dropping again, but they seem to be holding and Jake's gone back to _Nate, wearing his stupid uniform, looking stupidly handsome and serious_ so Nate lets it go.

The drift is good like that. You can let everything go in the drift. Anger, disappointment, resentment - they tell the cadets there's no place for emotions in the drift, for baggage, but Nate knows it's a lie, at least when Jake's with him.

He thinks _Jake staring at me, thinking I am stupidly handsome_. He's never seen it, never caught Jake looking at him like that, but then, he's never gone down on his knees in front of Jake either.

Jake chuckles. "Playing games now, are you? Don't think you're going to win this one either, if that's the best you can do," and suddenly there's _Nate, shivering and shuddering against him, sweat-slicked skin against sweat-slicked skin_ and _Nate's voice, saying 'Yes, please, Jake, Jake, Jake'_.

Nate thinks he should stop right there, and to hell with their numbers. He can come up with some neutral memory and stick to that one. Their neural handshake will hold as long as some part of him accepts having Jake there. It doesn't have to be a conscious part.

It would be giving up, though. Accepting that after all this time, he's still not better than Jake, that Jake's still better at getting into Nate's head and under Nate's skin than anyone else has ever been.

He thinks _the taste of your lips as I kiss you over and over again until I'm the only thing you can think of_ and _your naked skin against the fabric of my shirt_. They're old fantasies, half-buried underneath everything else that actually did happen between him and Jake.

"All right, that's a bit better, yeah. I'll admit it, I underestimated you." There's a hitch to Jake's voice.

Nate's too smart to say anything. He knows they're just playing, that Jake doesn't mean any of this. He knows that if Jake ever caught on to how much of this is true, how much of this Nate wants to be true, he'd be out of here again faster than you can say 'Saber Athena'.

Jake laughs, not putting anything new in the drift.

"Truce?" Nate offers, after a few seconds to make sure he's breathing nice and even.

"Yeah," Jake says. "You got it, man. Whatever you want."

Nate's too late to catch the _you_ that slips into the drift. It's an innocuous image: _Jake, back_ and _'Ranger Lambert'_.

"I might as well say this now, unlike some people, I do _not_ consider being addressed as 'Ranger Pentecost' a turn-on. And if you want me to call you that in bed, well, you got another think coming, you hearing me?" Jake says.

Two images flow through Nate at the same time: _me, having you up against the wall_ and _you, having me up against the wall_. He's not sure who he is in either scenario, or who Jake is, or which fantasy is whose. Maybe they're both his. Maybe they're both Jake's.

Jake groans. "Remind me again how long we're supposed to be stuck here on guard duty?"

"Too damn long, I can tell you that much," Nate says. "Let's - "

"Cradles're a bit too far apart for a quickie," Jake says. "Appreciate the thought, though."

"I was going to say: let's try to go back to acting like professionals."

Jake chuckles. "Sure you were. Mark my words. Two hours, thirty-six minutes from now, we're off. First one to get naked gets to be on top."

"It's not much of a race if you already plan to lose," Nate says.

"Maybe that's just what I want you to think, yeah? Maybe you think that you're in my head, yeah, but in reality, I'm in yours. You ever think of that?"

Nate sighs. "Guess we'll find out in two hours and thirty-six minutes."

"Guess we will," Jake says.

"Repeating what I said doesn't actually count as getting in the last word. You know that, right?"

"I think you want to shut up now. Seriously, man. Zip it."

"Right," Nate says. "Like you're going to manage to stay quiet for any longer than five minutes."

"You want me to call off the whole plan where we're going to have sex, is that it? 'cos you're getting there. Is that what you want?"


End file.
